


Blame it on Fate

by metyouinthetoilet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Piracy, Pirate AU, captain harry styles, invinsible harry, kevin the falcon, liam as louis brother, louis as the lad in distress?, phantom thingy, zayn as the quartermaster
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-08 10:59:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metyouinthetoilet/pseuds/metyouinthetoilet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most feared pirate to prowl the waters, Handsome Harry “Heathen” Styles is magically transformed by a bolt of St. Elmo’s Fire, turning him into a “Ghost Captain”. Only the soft, sensuous touch of prim and lovely Louis Tomlinson can banish the spell that is Harry’s curse.</p>
<p>in other words, Harry magically turns invincible due to a mysterious bolt of light, and the only person who can see him is Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1  
 ** _Somewhere in the Caribbean_**

  
     All the demons of the deep were loose on a midnight rampage. Angry thunderstorms crashed, resounding over the water like a death knell. The sea gave a mighty heave, sending the frigate reeling upon waters suddenly turbulent with gigantic swells.  
  
The startled crew of the Mirare, most shaken abruptly from slumber, scurried to their post, desperate to reef the canvass against the raw fury of this unexpected storm. Shoving his helmsman aside, the ship’s captain hurriedly took charge of the wheel himself.  
  
Over the roar of the gale, Captain Styles shouted orders to his men. The wind whipped his words from his mouth. Within seconds, the decks were as slick as ice, the rain pelting like a thousand needles that prick their flesh. On the bridge, Harry Styles fought the wheel, the muscles of his brawny arms bulging as he strained to keep the frigate’s nose angled into the ever building waves. Eyes as green as moss squinted against the pouring rain, scanning the deck below him and the skies above. With neither hat to secure it nor scarf to bind it, his curly hair whipped about his head like the shaggy mane of a lion, as wild as the man who sported it.  
  
Lightning flashed, and the hoop of gold in Harry’s left ear winked an answering glimmer. Sleek, sun darkened flesh drew taut and wet over the straight blade of his nose, the curve of his upper lips, the stubborn square jaw with a dimple carved deeply into his cheeks. With a toss of his head, Harry let loose a deep, rumbling laugh. “That’s the way m’ lady” he chuckled, encouraging the frigate as if she were a living thing. “Old Neptune may aim his trident at us all he wishes, yet we’ll dodge his every thrust! We’ll best him at his own game, or I’m not Harry “The Heathen” Styles, captain of the heartiest crew of pirates ever to sail these seas!”  
  
As if to disclaim Harry’s boast, the waves grew ever higher, the gale stronger, tossing the ship about as if it were no more than a splinter upon the ocean. After a while the rain had lessened to a drizzle, the thunder weakened to a final few grumbles. Harry pried his stiff fingers loose of the wheel and turned it over to his helmsman once more.  
Shoving aside the scrap o tarp that had provided added shelter during the storm, Harry reached out to untie the large slightly damp, and disgruntled hawk tethered there. Kevin, as the bird was called, was Harry’s trained falcon and the Mirare’s resident talisman. Harry crooned to the falcon, “Quite a ride for you, eh, my friend? Aye ‘twas a rough one this time.”  
  
The last of his words were nearly drowned out as a tremendous clap of thunder shook the ship, followed immediately by the most brilliant blue light, so bright that Harry had to shield his eyes. Unlike the usual lightning, it did not merely flash and diminish as fast as it came. Rather, the glow seemed to brighten. Though he had been sailing for years, never had he witnessed anything like this. He’d heard of it to be sure, but he never believed old fish tales. Yet here it was before his stunned gaze. The proof of their words. St. Elmo’s Fire, before he had further time to consider the matter, the freakish blue orb began to descend the mast. Standing where he was at the base of the mast, just below the fireball, he knew he should move back, but his feet seemed rooted to the deck. The sphere of light moved slowly, creeping eerily downward until it reached the lower edge of the rigging. Then in a blink of an eye it hurtled toward the deck, where it seemed to explode upon impact in a blinding blaze of sparks.  
  
Caught in its path, Harry felt a sizzling shock slam through him. His eyes glazed over, his vision blurring. Within his chest, he felt his heart cease breathing. Hi limbs began to quake, every ounce of his flesh and bones quivered. Harry’s crew watched in fascinated terror as the blue ball of light engulfed their captain and its falcon. Then to their no further terror, the pair began to glow, so luminous it became almost too bright to bear watching.  
  
Gradually the light began to waver and fade, but lo and behold to their immense horror, so did the captain and his bird. Those who still watched could not believe their eyes. One minute the captain stood glimmering like a saint come to life, and the next, he had faded away to nothing! Completely and absolutely gone. Not even a pile of ashes to mark the deck upon which he’d trod!

  
  
**_Immingham Port_ **

  
Louis Tomlinson gave an Inward sigh, and gritted his teeth behind what he hoped was a placid smile. Seated directly across from him in the small parlor was the primarily cause of his current headache – one Nick Grimshaw. By occupation he was the son and heir of Charles Town only moneylender, and an accomplished and cunning accountant in his own right. He was Louis’ nemesis a man most determined to court his property out of him.  
  
“Come now Louis, such reluctance may be your idea of maintaining your dignity, but it is entirely unnecessary. A simple agreement on your part that comes with a huge amount of cash would be quite sufficient.”  
  
“Sir, I do not wish to sell my company to you, or to anyone that likes to buy it. As you know this was the only thing left to me by my parents. I do not wish to add the burden of guilt by parting ways with this small company.” The property passed on to him by his deceased parents was no small holding, being advantageously located on the wharf, large and easily accessible to many ships that plied their trade in Immingham Port The only problem was that under Louis’ inexpert guidance, the business was fast losing money. It had been declining steadily, a fact of which Grimshaw was well aware.  
  
Grimshaw frowned slightly, “I regret having to say this but how many of your prospective rich benefactors would able to assume your debts, even an old rich spinster would not be  willing to accept a marriage proposal from you knowing your certain idifference to the female population in general? Whereas if you were to sell it to me, any other outstanding debts you might have accrued will dissolve.”  
  
His bald statements had been blunt, at eight and twenty years Louis was still not keen on marriage. Not that he wasn’t good looking enough to attract a wife, he was unlucky enough to have his mother’s height. Merely standing 5 ‘8”, He was curvier where most men are lean, his features are on the softer more feminine side only having the stubbles that makes him feel more manly. Though the real problem was he was never really into girls. He finds manly pecs more attractive than breasts, and in this small town it's highly indiscreet to have an affair with a rich lord, to take as his benefactor anyway.  
  
“Well, I will leave you to contemplate my offer once again,” Grimshaw told him, rising from his seat “But not for long Mr. Tomlinson, I am a patient man, up to a point. But that point is fast approaching. Do not tarry to long with your decision. You have one month. At the end of that time I will expect either your acceptance of my proposition, or your debt paid in full.”


	2. Chapter 2

                Once the shock of Harry’s disappearance began to pass, the pirate crew of Mirare went crazed, began running around, screaming and tearing at their hair. A few tried to recall the forgotten practice of prayer, long-dulled from disuse.

                It was to this bedlam that Harry awoke. At first he was aware of nothing more than his own misery, it seem as though a ton of rock rested upon his chest. There was a strange tingling throughout his body. His ears were ringing, his vision was blurred. He had only a vague recollection of being enveloped by that eerie blue light. Indeed he had no memory of how he came to be lying on his back, on the deck, unconscious.

                As his mind began to clear, Harry began aware of a terrible commotion. By sheer willpower, he rolled to his side, caught hold of the wheel, and pulled himself into a sitting position. He witnesses his crew running about like so many chickens with their heads lopped off.

                “What in Hades is happening?” he murmured aloud to his instant regret “Aah! Damn but that hurts!” Despite the pain, he braced himself and shouted down to his men on the deck below him. Twice, thrice to no avail. The clamor they were making with their wailing was such that they might not have heard a canon blast their midst. Harry stumbled a few steps to the ships bell and gave several hearty yanks to the clapper. A startled, wary silence fell immediately. Now that he had their full attention, he ordered brusquely, “Listen sharp, you dunderheads! Belay that racket and get back to your stations! We’ve a ship to sail!”

                Rather than obey his commands, the crew stood as one, staring in stupification. “Move I say!” He roared, his deep distinctive voice ringing the length of the ship. “Or I’ll have strips off all your hides before the day is half-begun!” Still they gaped openmouthed. One gave a hoarse shout, and, with a running leap launched himself overboard. Beside him, the young cabin boy fainted without a sound. Finally, one brave soul offered tentatively. “Be that you, Capt’n Styles?”

                Wondering what had bedeviled his men, Harry gave a snort of disgust. “O’ course ‘tis me, you befuddled bilge rat! Who else? Were you expecting your mother at the helm mayhap?” his crew began to murmur excitedly amongst themselves. Scraps of comments drifted up to him.

“Saints preserve us! ‘Tis the Capt’ns ghost!”  
“It can’t be! We seen ‘im disappear!”  
“Aye, but I know the Capt’ns voice when I hears it!”  
“Then why are we hearing him but not seeing him?”

“What in bloomin’ blazes are you fools blathering about?” Harry bellowed at last. “What’s all this nonsense about dissapearings and ghosts? Why, I’m standin’ here as big as life, with a head that’s about to split wide with all your yammering, and - . “

“Nay Harry – or whoever ye be – ye’re not standing there as big as life. I’d stake my own skin on that.” Zayn Malik, the Mirare’s quartermaster and Harry’s Bestfriend, stepped forward from the rest of the cowering, befuddled group. Like those around him, he gazed upward towards the point from which the voice was coming, and claimed, “I swear by all saints, Harry, I can hear ye, but I’ll be double damned if I can see ye.” Several others nodded in fearful agreement. Harry frowned and cast a quick look at his own body. “I see limbs and cutlass and boots and breeches, same as always, Zayn. There’s nothing the least bit different.”  
                “Touch yerself and tell me what ye feel,” Zayn persisted.  
                “Damn it all Zayn!”  
                “Just do it”

                Harry felt like an absolute fool, so he touched his hands to his chest. “Fine I’m here, all in one piece, does that satisfy you?” “Actually, no, prove ye truly are standing up there talking to us, Move something. Pick something up - something we can see.”  
                “Blarst it all, Zayn! This has gone far enough. I feel like a buffon, set up to play your warped sense of humor.”

                Still grumbling, Harry spied Kevin, lying motionless on the deck, he sighed. “Drat! The stupid bird is dead! And just when I had him well-trained!” He walked over and lifted the hawk by his talons. “Now! Tell me you don’t see that, you scurvy vermints!”

                “See what Capt’n?”  
                “What are you doing that we should be seeing?”  
                “Harry . . .”

                “Nay! Don’t you dare say it, Zayn! Here I stand holding a dead falcon like a bloomin’ flag, and you blind loonies are bound to claim otherwise.”

                Before Zayn or anyone else could answer, the hawk gave a pitiful squawk. “I’ll be hanged! He’s not dead after all” Harry exclaimed with relief. He gave the bird a sharp shake, and Kevin emitted a loud, angry screech, demanding release.  
                “Did ye hear that?” one sailor cried, “Now, we’ve not only a captain we can’t see but his bird too”. “The ship’s doomed, and us with it!” another chimed in.

                The panic was growing again, but before it could gain full momentum, the ships bell rang out again with a tremendous clang, “Zayn! Get up here!” Harry raged. When his quartermaster hesitated, obviously uneasy about complying, a belaying pin came soaring through the air, missing the man’s head by an inch. “That’s an order Mr. Malik!”  
                With an air of a martyr about to meet his end, Zayn slowly climb the upper deck. Silent now, the crew watched apprehensively, waiting for the worst to happen. As their quartermaster walked towards the bell, he bumped into something large and solid, an object that heaved a stream of furious, hot oaths into his face.

                “By heaven and hell Zayn! If you dare tell me I’m not standing here cursing you, I’ll throw you to the sharks!” Harry warned darkly.  
                “Captn’ I know yer standing there, I can hear ye and feel ye. Lord, I can even smell ye. But, dang it, I still can’t see ye. I’d be a liar if I said differently. Do your worst to me, but it won’t change anything, Haz. You’ve turned into a ghost.” “Nay!” Harry denied, “I’m no phantom, nor am I a wraith of any sort! I am a man of flesh and blood.” Sadly Zayn shook his head, “Deny it if you must, but it’s true. When that mysterious ball of light caught you, something queer happened. And now you’re no longer visible to anyone but yourself.”

                Fear clutched Harry’s belly, cramping it, as he read the truth in Zayn’s awe-filed eyes. With a hoarse shout, he shoved his friend aside, he pushed his way through a throng of anxious, skittish pirates. His footsteps fell like thunder on bare planking as he stomped to a nearby barrel and ripped the cover from it with furious flick of his wrist. He bent over the barrel and gave an awful agonized gasp. Dear God! It was true! It was right before his eyes. Tentatively Harry raised trembling fingers to his face. Flesh met flesh without doubt, yet in the calm pool directly below him, no vision mimicked his movements. There came an anguished moan as he hung his head in despair.

                A few hours and several glasses of rum later, Harry sat slumped in the captain’s chair in his cabin. Across the desk from him, Zayn did likewise. Both were soused to the gills, morosely pondering Harry’s fate as a ghost. “How? Why?” Harry asked for the millionth time. “Dunno Haz, mayhap the penalty for the wayward, thievin’ life we’ve been living these past years?”  
                “If that be so, how about the rest of you? I’m not the only pirate in the seas. I maybe the best of the lot, but I’m far from the worst. If not for Captain Swift and his band of cutthroats, I’d be a common law-abiding carpenter now, probably in business with my uncle. But Nay! Unluckily for me, he attacked the ship I was onboard towards the colonies. It was he who dragged me, kicking and screaming, into piracy.” “Aye, still it was better that getting your neck slit.” Zayn agreed solemnly. “Better a phantom pirate at age of seven and twenty than fish bait at sixteen? I don’t know Zayn. If I’d guessed it would come to this, perhaps I’d have chosen a swift death.” He lifted his tankard and drained it.

                Zayn swore softly, “Damn, Haz! Do you have the foggiest notion how disturbing it is to see mugs and kegs raise themselves into thin air? To sit here and talk to you, while watching things float about? This whole business has me spooked.” Harry gave an unconcerned shrug of his broad shoulders, though Zayn couldn’t see him do so, he did however hear the enormous yawn that followed. Grinning he taunted “Tired Haz? I always thought ghosts didn’t require sleep. I’d assume they were above the more mundane urges of nature.” After a brief pause, he asked, “Pray tell me, what are you going to do when next you crave a body in your bed, if that’s still possible?”

                “Leave it to you to point out my shortcomings, just as I was beginning to believe this would all work out in the end.” Harry complained irritably. “Oh, well I suppose, for a portion of your booty, I could persuade to lure someone to your bed for you” Zayn offered, “as long as you remember to keep the lamp doused. We wouldn’t want the poor person to ran screaming into the night.”  
                Harry snorted “I’ll chose my own bed partners, thank you.”  
                “How?”  
                That was a question, among a multitude of others which Harry would ponder long into the night and for many a day to follow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So i originally planned to post this chapter this Saturday but i finished it early, and my lovely beta already had some major proof reading done on this chapter.
> 
> Tell me what you thought of the story! Next chapter will be up next week.  
> Love lots! come to me on tumblr pleasejustlastayear


	3. Chapter 3

 

              A fortnight has passed since Nick Grimshaw had issued his demands; Half of Louis allotted time now gone, while still he dittered over his reply. What was he to do? Passing a weary hand over his brow, he glared at the open account book on the desk before him, its columns of figures mocking him.

             Just now, his most pressing problem was attempting to make some sense of the monthly warehouse accounts. As adept as he was at reading and writing, and as much as he enjoyed both, his talents had never stretched to mathematics. Therefore, he had to rely heavily upon his manager’s ability in that area, though he doubts as to whether Stan was anymore skillful at it. Also he found himself in the position of having to continually bow to his advice about the operation of the warehouse, and hope that he was both capable and honest in all their dealings. It was not the most comfortable circumstance in which to find oneself, but there seems to be little help for it, unless he wanted to turn his books over to Grimshaw each month for an additional fee, which he could not afford to do.

             He was still struggling to make  heads or tails of the accounts when the bell above the office door chimed, announcing the arrival of three men. As he glanced up from his work, Louis’ first reaction was one of dismay. Judging by their clothing, it was obvious that they were pirates. It was also obvious to him, since he’d lived in Immingham Port all his life and encountered a number of their sort. The big, handsome fellow on the center wore a red scarve atop his mesh of curls, and a gold hoop in his left earlobe, while the man on his right looks like a prince from a far away land, and the one on the left was sporting a gold tooth.

             With much trepidation, he swallowed the lump in his throat, dredged up a polite smile, and asked weakly, “How may I help you sirs?”

             The fellow with the gold tooth answered. “We’ve just put into port, and are looking for a place to store our cargo, sir. Is the owner about? We’d like to discuss arrangements for transferring it to your warehouse.”

                “Have you dealt with us in the past? We’re taking no new customers at the moment.”

                The man frowned and tossed a quick glance at the pirate in the center, who grunted softly, leaving the first man to reply. “Yes, we’ve put goods here before, I guess.”

                “Don’t you know?” Louis questioned.

                “If the captain says we did, then we did.” Gold tooth told him gruffly. “He ain’t a liar.”

                “I didn’t mean to imply that he was,” Louis said, nervously licking his suddenly dry lips. “Merely that I need a name in order to check our records.”

                “Oh well I suppose it will be listed under … . uh … .” He hesitated, seemingly unsure how to respond until Red Scarf growled the answer into his ear. “It will be under Styles, sir. Captain Harry Styles, of the Mirare.”

                “And when might you have stored goods here last?” he persisted. “To facilitate locating the entry in the registry.”

                “Uh …” After again consulting with Red scarf, Gold Tooth blurted. “Three years past.”

             The bell tinkled once more, grateful for the timely interruption, he turned his gaze to the new arrival, only to find himself faced with the equally unwelcome sight of Nick Grimshaw.

             Nick looked from him to the pirates and back again, his thin nostrils pinching together as if he’d suddenly smelled something foul. “Might I speak with you, Mister Tomlinson?” he requested archly.

             Feeling as if he were caught between the Devil and the deep, Louis nodded. “Sirs, if you will excuse me for just a moment.” So edging past his potential customers, Louis motioned Nick to precede him outside. Once outside he faced Grimshaw with a stern countenance, “What brings you here in the middle of my workday, Mr. Grimshaw?”

                “Why, I’ve come to receive your answer to my request of course.”

                “My time is not yet up,” he reminded him sharply. “I still have two weeks before the limit you have set for me. A fortnight more in which to repay the debt Papa unwittingly bequeathed to me.” 

             He favored him with a tight smile. “Why delay? Have you any other recourse than to accept my offer?” “You will have my answer in two weeks, Mr. Grimshaw,” he insisted, standing his ground. “I care not if it displeases you. And it remains to be seen whether or not I will sell my warehouse to you. Forfeiting the business would not immediately put me or my brother in the poorhouse.”

             Grimshaw gave an exaggerated sigh of resignation. “Ah, well, have it your way, if you must. For now. Go attend to those two cutthroats awaiting you, but I might warn you to steer clear of doing business with them. Not only would the town assembly disapprove, but you might find yourself courting bodily harm.”

             Meanwhile, inside the office, Harry and his men unrepentantly eavesdropped on the conversation between the two.

             “Would you listen to that strutting fop?” Zayn commented. “Acting for all the world like some sort of king, browbeating that poor lad into selling his warehouse.”

             “Not that he has much choice as I see it,” Niall put in. “He looks to distressed to catch be some rich spinster’s eyes to be his benefactor and pay all his debts.”

             Zayn nodded, “Yes, and skinny as spike too. Do you suppose he’s so bad off that he’s been starving himself to save up money to repay his loan?”

             “What’s the matter with you two simpletons?” Harry asked with a frown. “Have your eyes gone as dull as your brains? Yes he could use a bit more weight on his bones, but neither is he gaunt. Fact is, I rather fancy the way he looks, with that sun kissed skin, and curves. Now I ask you have you seen eyes that color before, like sun-dappled sea blue?” 

             “Oh Ho!” Zayn crowed. With uncanny aim given the fact that he could not see his target, he slammed an elbow into Harry’s ribs. “Methinks our leader is smitten Niall, and with a curvy lad that needs rescuing. Think we could work something out for him? Do you reckon he’d consider bedding a man he can’t hold? I wonder how much that debt of him amounts to, anyway? Why, if we all throwed in a sum, maybe we could offer him enough to meet it and buy him favors for our dear, nearly departed captain.”

             Louis reentered the room. “Now, sirs,” he said, still trying to collect his scattered wits after the encounter with Grimshaw, “perhaps we can conclude our business without further interruption, Where were we?” "You were about to check your records," Zayn offered politely, though his eyes still held a twinkle of humor. 

"So i was, though i doubt that was necessary. You see, I have just recalled how filled the warehouse is at this time, I sincerely doubt we have space for anymore goods."

             A quick conference was held between the three, whereupon Zayn declared, "Begging your pardon, but we saw ourselves through the place before we come to the office, and there appears to be plenty of room for our cargo."

Louis face colored at being caught in such a bad faced lie. "I see..." he murmured, chewing his lower lip.

Again the center pirate whispered something to his spokesman. It proved more than Louis could tolerate after the morning he's been through. To his own amazement, as well as that of the men before him, he blurted, "Why is it that your Captain - I assume that's who the fellow with the red scarf on his head is - cannot speak for himself? I know he's not mute for i can hear him muttering to you. Has he some aversion to dealing with a person that's not a pirate?"

             All three pirates gaped at him in varying degrees of amazement. "You can see him?" Zayn asked incredously, while Harry continued to stare at him with an expression betwixt hope and disbelief.

             "Of course i can," he said. "I'm neither nearsighted nor wall-eyed."

             "He can see me!" Harry exclaimed softly. Then more excitedly, "Blow me down! The lad can detect me! I'm revived! Returned to my normal self once more!"

             "No, yer not!" Zayn corrected quickly, before Harry's hope could rise too far,  "You're still a spirit, Haz. Neither Niall nor I can behold you."

             "Oh come on now." Louis declared warily, the nape of his neck starting to tingle. "what manner of prank is this? What do you hope to gain by such farce? You'll find no foolish audience with me sirs!"

             "It is no joke we're playing," Harry assured him solemnly, anxiously. "My men cannot see me. Truth be told in the last couple of weeks, out of a hundred people not one has viewed me - until you. Tell me honestly now, Look upon me and describe me."

             Why he complied was beyond him, but his eyes and tongue seem to have acquired a will of their own, thus he found himself studying him and replying, "You are tall, broad of chest and long expanse of torso. You are wearing dark boots, dark breeches, and a white shirt, with a scarlet sash around your head and a gold earring in your left lobe. No hat. Your hair is a mop of curls that's in need of barbering but not unbecoming. Your eyes are green, never have I seen eyes as green as the those. You have a strong jaw . . ."

             "Enough" Harry broke in, surprised to find himself somewhat embarassed by his assessment of him. Still and all, he'd related his features correctly enough that he could not doubt that he saw him quite well.

             "So you do see me" he murmured half to himself, a wide smile curving his lips. "By God! You surely do!" he announced joyously, wonder still pulsing through him. "How this can be, when no one else is capable of doing so, eludes me, but I've never been so grateful for anything in my life! If you only knew what a trial I've been through these past days, living the life of a ghost, when i know beyond a doubt that iam still an earth-bound man."

             The tingle at his nape had spread down his spine, raising chill bumps. It was opnly now that he recalled Grimshaw commenting on the two pirates in his office. Two, he had said, not three as stood before him, plain as the nose on his face. "Please" he begged. "Tell me you jest, Tell me this is not - "

             "It is so I'm afraid," Zayn answered. "Sad, but true. You know, several days ago, we came across a hell of a storm. Then we have this bolt of Blue fire strike the mast, and it come down upon the captain here and then he dissapeared along with his bird."

             "Blue fire?" he repeated stupidly. "And a bird?"

             "Yes. The captain has a trained falcon he keeps aboard ship with him." Niall put in helpfully.

             "Oh" Louis nodded completely befuddled. Certain now that he was caught completely in a bad dream, he longed only to put it to a quick resolution and started for the door.                "Sirs, I must ask you to excuse me please. I simply cannot sit here and participate in this nightmare any longer."

             Harry could not allow the only person who could see him walk away. As he sidled past him, he caught his arm. When he did so, another miraculous thing happened. With no more warning than an odd, warm tremor tripping through him, Harry became visible to his two crewmen. They cried out in shock upon his sudden appearance before their startled gazes.

             "Haz!"

             "Captain your back!"

             "Just look at you, Harry! why i never knew how much i missed that ugly puss of yours till just this minute!"

             "What?" Harry gasped in delight. "You can see me too? Both of you?"

             "Yes! aint it glorious?"

             Without any thinking, Harry released Louis arm. Immediately, he bagan to fade from sight. Strangely this time he could actually feel himself doing so. And the dismal look on Zayn and Niall's faces told him it was so. "Harry! Do something!" Zayn implored anxiously. "You're vanishing on us!"

             At their initial shouts, Louis had turned back and stared. At the moment the pirates claimed to glimpse their captain, he realized that he too could see the man more vividly, as if what he had viewed before had been slightly shadowed, not quite as clear as he should have been. Now, not having a slightest motion what motivated him to do so, he reached out and touched his shoulder. Just that one small contact and 

Harry reappeared to one and all.

             "It's him!" Zayn announced in jubilant wonder. "Not only does he sees you, but when he touches you you become visible. It is the weirdest damned thing i have ever seen, other than you fading away to start with!"

             Harry had to agree. He also knew without a doubt that he's going to keep this lad no more than an arm's length away from him, if he had to lash him to his wrist to keep him there -  for the rest of his life, or however long it took to regain his normal state permanently. Still the thought of being chained to an unwilling captive for an undetermined length of time, with him ranting and raving the whole time, left something to be improved upon. Far better if he could convince him to go with him of his own violition. Never one to waste time or opportunity, Harry said, "Mister Tomlinson - that is your name is it not?"

             He nodded dumbly, still shaken, not at all sure his mind hadn't come unhinged. Is this what tryng to balance accounts could do to one's brain? Was there a cure for what ails him? Should he consult a physician?

             "Mister Tomlinson," he heard the captain saying, "you're not attending my words." Mutely he stared up at him as he clasped warm fingers about his chin and tilted his face towards his. "Now pay attention please."

             Again he gave a stiff nod, his chin bobbing within his large palm. "I . . . I'm listening."

             "I want you to come with me."

             "Where?" he croaked.

             "Back to my ship. Wherever i go."

             "Why?"

             "Good God, lad! Need i explain, after all that has happened? You are the one person who can see me, who can make it possible for others to do so. Who can give my life some semblance of normalcy, as long as you are within the distance of a touch. I need you with me."

             "NO."

             "Yes, You must."

             "I won't," he maintained, turning suddenly stubborn, and to his vast relief, feeling stronger and more himself by the minute.

             "I wouldn't hurt you, or allow any harm to come to you." he assured him.

             "You don't understand. I have a business to run, and an invalid brother at home. Even if i wished to go with you, which i do not, I could never leave him alone and helpless."

             Harry considered his options., which were few, "Then i'll simply have to stay with you."

             "That's impossible. I couldn't allow it. Why, just to do business with you would be risking ostracism by my fellow townspeople. To have you walking about with me, visible or otherwise, would be unthinkable."

             "But you will do business with me Mister Tomlinson," he assured him gravely. "And I with you. I shall strike a bargain with you. In return for our companionship, I'll pay off your loan to that puny pup who can't wait to get his hands on your property. Your warehouse will be yours, free and clear of any debts; and for as long as I stay, it will continue to be so. For your part, you will accompany me wherever I need to go and be seen. If that is not agreeable to you, I could very well abduct you now, put a gag between your teeth, place you on my ship and we will sail together." Only Harry and his mates knew that this threat was a bluff. Mister Tomlinson did not know this, however, and Harry was not about to enlighten him.

             "That's blackmail!" he accused hotly!

             "Did you expect less?" he taunted "Iam after all a pirate of some repute, and need to maintain my good standing with my fellow buccaneers." 

             Louis wanted to scream. What a preposterous predicament! He was caught like a juicy bone between two hungry dogs. On one hand, a priggish moneylender wanting to take over his warehouse. On the other hand, a mad pirate promising havoc into his life. Not a lot of choice there! Still, of the two, perhaps Harry Styles presented the better bargain. He'd have the warehouse back, with no mortgage hanging over his head. And there's always the chance he'd soon regain his body and be out of his life much faster than Grimshaw would. Besides, if he had to have a man around, why not a handsome almost - ghost pirate?

             "I'd want more," he demanded haughtingly, thinking to lessen his disadvantage. 

             "Oh?" Harry raised an arrogant brow.

             "Yes. If i were to have you constantly underfoot, I'd need your pledge to discover the reason my business is failing. If the fault lies with me, I want you to teach me how to correct the problem, or hire someone who can. In that way once you are gone, I can get my life back in order and not have to constantly worry about supporting myself and my brother. And if the fault lies elsewhere, you must help me find a means of resolving the problem once and for all."

             "Done."

             "What?"

             "Are you hard of hearing? I said, I agree. We now have a bargain Mister Tomlinson."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so terribly sorry, for a week of no updates, my social life caught up with me and to top it all i lost my beta reader, she is currently having her thesis and would like to focus more on it. so im still trying to find someone who would beta for me. :( anyone who knows someone? This chapter took so long for me to finish. i proof read it soo many bloody times. and if you can still find some errors please spare me. English is not really what my native tongue speaks. Anyway i merged two chapters into one for this to make up of last week. Read and Enjoy! Would appreciate some critics but don't be to harsh ayt?  
> 


	4. Chapter 4

Struck a deal with the Devil! That’s what he’d done; Louis thought in wondrous panic mere minutes after the thought sink in. What in heaven or hell had possessed him to agree to such an asinine bargain? He rather suspected he’s been neatly outmaneuvered. Caught in a tangle of his own words and confusion, only to find himself bound to a pact with a pirate he knew nothing about. How did he know that he’s to be trusted? That he wouldn’t attack him on his bed, or slit his throat in broad daylight. 

Already, Harry was setting into motion, aspects of their agreement to which he’d given little thought, hadn’t truly suspected even part of their agreement. Why, the man actually intended to move into his house! With his invisible falcon no less! The nerve. 

“Absolutely not Captain Styles, I can only imagine the type of people you associate with.”

Harry perused him most thoroughly, raking his eyes over him with disturbing familiarity. His intent gazed on his small waist silhouetted against his flimsy shirt, giving way to a snug breeches that accentuate an ample curve of his bottom. 

“Nay lad,” he agreed with a brash grin. “You’re not my usual type, though you have possibilities. I fail to see how you have remained single all these years. Are the people of his town blind to your charms? Or do you hold them at bay with your shrewish tongue?”

Louis blinked up at him owlishly, momentarily dumbstruck. Even while he knew he should be offended, he was also unwittingly flattered. That this handsome young man thinks of him as anything attractive was beyond belief! It was practically laughable. For years he has been aware of his gawkish looks, feeling like a grey color stuck amid a very colorful canvass. He was neat enough in his appearance, and tried to dress accordingly, thou not in a manner that would openly invite critical attention. He’d long since given hope of attempting to dress fashionably, for it would only emphasize his lack of height and curves that are unwarranted on a man. Now, here was this man tossing glib praise about and likely expecting him to swoon at his feet in abject appreciation. 

“You are no gentleman! You may quit your misplaced flattery, for it will gain you naught. You’ll not step so much as one boot across my threshold”

“Come now, my haughty prince. Think about a moment. Who would even know I’m here? No one can actually see me except for you.” He argued “Also, how did you intend to prevent me from doing so? Will you go to the constable and have me arrested? “

“How about my brother?” he countered weakly, his logic fast defeating him. “Surely he would sense that a stranger was abiding in our home. Even if he can’t see you, he can definitely hear you. And you must know that even if he lost the use of his legs, his mind is as sharp as his ears. He spends his hours in the parlor, where he entertains friends who come to visit. And don’t forget our housemaid?”

Harry gave an eloquent shrug “If I take care to be quiet, no problems should arise. Well at least nothing that cannot be readily explained.”

“True” Louis readily conceded, with a condemning glare. “However, when the furniture takes on a voice and deigns to speak. I’ll be at loss to explain such weird happenstance. So, if you insist on moving in, kindly keep your lips shut within anyone’s hearing. You don’t certainly want them proclaiming me as insane. I’ll be of little use to you once I’ve been locked on an asylum.”

“You have little faith in me darling. You should know that I would gallantly rescue you from any harm which might befall you, my love?”

“And likely give me even more trouble in the process? Why must you plague me so?” he lamented.

“Better to ask why the sun must rise or the rain fall”, he answered “or why I have become a vapor to all but you”

It was decided that the cargo from The Mirage would be off loaded the following day. Immediately, Zayn and Niall left to relate the news to the crew and see to making things ready aboard ship. 

Before departing for home, Louis, with Harry at his side went in search for Stan. To inform him of the impending transaction, to his dismay, Stan was unaware of Harry’s presence the whole time. Dashing his hopes that his invisibility was some elaborate hoax.

As was customarily proper, Harry took charge of the reins after assisting Louis into his buggy. Neither of them remembering that Harry is still invisible. They rode side by side. A slight defiance, at his part made Louis doing his best to keep from touching him. They’d traversed several blocks when Louis suddenly became aware that he was garnering strange looks, and it was several seconds before he come to a sudden realization. With a strangled gasp he grabbed for the reins on Harry’s hands. Diverted from his thoughts, Harry held tight.

“What’s wrong with you love? Cease this fit before you spook the horses”

Still he battled to strip them from his grasps. “No! can’t you see that people are staring?” His lips barely moving in his stiff pale face. “Captain Styles! Give me the reins, and do keep quiet. God forbid! Anyone should hear you. It’s bad enough they saw me driving blithely down the street with no one in control of the horses with the reins flapping in mid-air.”

“Oh”, he did as he suggested, berating himself for his oversight. After a lifetime of being visible, was he supposed to become suddenly accustomed to having it otherwise? A few lapses is to be expected and excused for sure. Still he owed Louis an apology, “I beg your pardon, Louis. I was caught up in my own musings and forget to take caution.”

Harry remained silent until they drew up before a two leveled sand colored house built entirely of stone and tabby. It had mellow, welcoming air of permanence to it, as though it could weather a hurricane and still remain standing for years to come. He had no doubt that Louis family must have cost a fortune, to have built such a dignified home. The windows sported real glass panes, and while it cannot be called a mansion, it was fair-sized and of good construction.

“You’ve spoken of your brother, that he is an invalid with only you and a servant to care for him. Whatever became of your parents?”

Sadness furthered darkened his shaded features. “They died almost 3 years ago, following a lengthy illness the doctor could neither name nor cure. It was a terrible time for all of us, but especially for my brother. On the day they placed my parents in their graves, he lost the use of his legs, and he has not taken a single step since.”

Louis gazed past him toward the house, his blue eyes dull with sorrow. “The doctor claims it is more a sickness in her mind and soul than a physical condition. But that doesn’t alter the fact that he cannot walk. I doubt he ever will, after all these time. That’s why I’m determined to keep the business and the house for him. To see that he is kept comfortable.”

They dove to the rear, to a small carriage house. There Harry helped Louis unharness the stable the two horses before following her up to the main residence. On the veranda he paused. “For my brother’s sake, I ask of you to remember not to speak or make any undue sounds. Please”

“I’ll be as quiet as a mouse.”

“That does little to alleviate my worries, Captain Styles, since everyone knows that mice can be quite noisy. Also would you kindly scrape the filth from your boots before entering the house, lest you leave ghostly footprints all across my clean floors?”

As they opened the door someone called out from the parlor. “Louis is that you?”

“Yes Liam, I’ll be right in.” He stepped into the front hall and faced Harry “Now I want you to remember there will be no touching, I fear Liam would not take it well to have a ghost in our home. Particularly one who appears and fades at every instance.”

Together they entered the parlor to find Liam sitting propped in a chair before the window. His pale face bore the markings of time and mourning, never before had Harry witnessed such deep sorrow as that displayed in Liam’s.

A slight frown creased Liam’s forehead as he faced Louis. “Louis, your step seems heavy this afternoon. Are you perhaps feeling weighed down with those nasty accounts you are forced to balance? I know how you dread that chore.”

Louis bent to get closer “They are a trial for me Li, and I must battle them yet again tomorrow, for I fear they won the fight again today. But enough of that dreariness, How was your day Li? Did you have a nice visit with Reverend Johnston and his wife?”

“No more or less than usual. His wife is still after me to let her paint my portrait, though heaven knows why she would want to commit to on canvass. It isn’t as if she need’s the practice after all. Everyone in this town is pleading her for portraits of their own. 

Louis nodded in agreement as he loosened his neckerchief, “Yes, she does have a remarkable skill with color and brush.” Paying little attention, he tossed the cloth toward a nearby chair. It landed on Harry’s knees.

“What in the world!” Liam exclaimed, noting the way the cloth seem to hover half a foot above the cushion. 

Quickly, Harry shoved the cloth from his knee, causing it to tumble on the floor. Liam stared, then swiftly recovered and offered the explanation himself. “I’ll wager that dratted Dora has left half the windows in the house open, as well as the kitchen door.”

Louis heaved a sigh of relief and met Harry’s taunting gaze. He lifted a broad shoulder in a mute gesture, as if to say it wasn’t his doing this time, but his. 

Awhile later it was Louis’ turn to smirk. As he and Liam dined on tender roasted meat and potatoes. Harry was forced to sit quietly and watch. The aroma alone was enough to set his mouth watering and his stomach begging for respite. And by the time they had finished their meal, Dora, their housemaid, cleared the table, he could barely withhold a pathetic moan. He was regarding the remaining dishes with longing, when Dora rounded the corner of the table nearest him. It came such a surprise when she attempted to push his chair into its proper place, almost toppling him from his seat in the process. No small woman, Dora gave the chair another hefty shove, frowning when it scarcely budged. As she bent to examine the legs, Harry hastily made his escape. 

By this time, Louis couldn’t contain his glee. Though he covered his mouth with both hands, a cascade of giggles bubbled forth, earning him a perplexed look from Liam.

“Louis, what has gotten into you this evening? You seem skittish as a spring colt. Not your usual self at all. Are you sure you are feeling well?” 

“I’m fine Li, I’m just tired and a bit giddy with it.”

It was not until Dora and Liam retired for the evening that Harry finally got the opportunity to appease his hunger. As he raided the pantry, Louis stood watching.

“Damn! I sure do am starving. It was mean torture, you getting to eat while I sat and watched, salivating over every spoonful that went into your mouths.”

“You should have considered that before you invited yourself into my home. Perhaps you should rethink your plans. I’m sure this is not the last of the pitfalls you will encounter.”

“We” Harry corrected around a mouthful of food. “As in You and I, my love. I am not about to quit our agreement so easily. And if you want that pesky moneylender out of your property, neither will you. If you could kindly remember that it will be me that would ransom you from his greedy clutches.”

Once Harry’s appetite was satisfied, Louis showed him upstairs to a spare bedroom. All the while wondering about the amount of food he consumed, and how he would explain its disappearance to Dora. Though neat, the room was small and sparsely decorated. The bed was shorter, but topped with a plump feather mattress and pillow. 

“We have rooms above the carriage house, but Dora occupies those rooms. If not for that, you would be staying there.” Louis informed him curtly.

“Nay Louis, I would not. I’m perfectly okay here” An arrogant grin, one Louis was fast coming to know, curved his lips. “Here, or in your bed.”

“When asses speak the King’s English!” Louis retorted, too shocked to properly watch his language.

He chuckled, accepting defeat so graciously. “Ah, well you can’t blame me for trying love. If you have a change of heart, you’re welcome to seek me out.”

For an answer Louis tartly reminded him to make up his bed in the morning, lest Dora become suspicious, and left the room, scurrying to his own room and bolting the door behind him. 

Much later as he lay in bed unable to sleep, listening to the clock in the downstairs hall tolling the midnight hour. As the final chime died away, beyond the thin wall separating his bedroom from Harry’s, he heard his bedstead creak.

Cursed fool pirate!  
Infernal half-ghost!  
Handsome, flattering rogue!  
He was fast coming to replace Grimshaw as the bane of his existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Finally! after almost giving up on this fic i decided why not devote myself on continuing this story? cause like the fandom is in sort of chaos nowadays. and a friend of mine says that the only thing keeping her from leaving is the great fics written by awesome writers. So i just got to thinking, that maybe this fic can also be my outlet into not giving a single fuck about the fandom drama and just stay on my larry bubble.


	5. Chapter 5

“Louis! Louis!”  
Louis awoke with a start, his heart pounding as he tried to rouse himself from sleep. On a quick look around, he realized that it was still night. What had wakened him? Even as the question flitted through his groggy brain, he heard an odd grumbling sound, followed by a loud snuffle.  
He was still trying to decipher its source, when Liam called out from the bedroom across the hall. Sleep fled, alarm lending strength to his legs as he tumbled hastily from the bed. Dashing across the room, he yanked the door, and ran to his brother’s aid.   
“Li? What is it? Are you ill? Should I send Dora for the doctor?”  
“No! Now, shhhh!” by the light of the bedside candle, Louis saw tremors on his brother’s hands as he wave him to silence. “I’m fine, just a bit shaken. I don’t mean to alarm you, but am I imagining things, or do I hear someone snoring in this house?”  
Louis eyes flew wide, his mouth even wider. Bollocks! That was what that strange sound was! It was Harry Styles snoring fit to lift the rafters! How was he supposed to explain this away?  
“Uh . . . uh . . . Oh, Liam! That’s impossible!” he stammered, silently wishing Harry to silence, Evidently, he was not to be shushed quite that easily, for another grunt resounded almost immediately.   
“Then please explain to me what is that I’m hearing?” Liam said, fright aglow in her eyes. “Louis, I fear we have a midnight visitor. Although why he would have fallen asleep in our home is beyond me. While I hate to put this problem upon your shoulders, there is no help for it. Get me father’s gun from the wardrobe.”  
“Liam! No!” Louis thought quickly, fabricating the first thing to come to mind. He laughed nervously, trying to display a calm he did not feel. “Oh! Liam, Do you know what we’re hearing? It’s probably just a stray hog rooting in our yard. I’m sure it is! Listen! There it is again! Nothing but a big old pig scaring us half witless!”  
“Are you certain? It sounds so close. As if it’s just right down the hall.”  
“I’m certain, but if it will set your mind at ease, I’ll go check. For now, lie down and go back to sleep Li.”  
Accepting his explanation, Liam settled against his pillows with a weary smile. “I feel so foolish, but promise me you won’t go outdoors in the dark. Just look from the windows and throw some slipper at it.”

Retrieving the candle Liam had lit, Louis noted thankfully that Liam was already nearly asleep again. Quietly he crept from the room, pulling the door shut behind him. Then, without a robe or slippers, wearing nothing but his nightshirt, he charged across the hall, mad as a bull. Not bothering to knock, he threw the door to the guest room wide, and marched toward the bed where Harry lay blissfully snoring. He promptly administered a resounding wallop to Harry’s shoulder with the flat of his hand, hitting him so hard that his fingers stung from impact.   
One second he was looking down upon him, a satisfied smirk on his lips. Until he found himself hurtling through the air, to end flat on his back on the mattress, his big body atop his. More than merely startled, Louis fear filled gaze caught the wicked gleam of a knife blade, held on a hand that rested threateningly against his throat. Cold eyes glittered down into his for countless heartbeats as Louis gasped for air. A single frightened squeak emerged in place of a scream. 

Harry cursed. Still holding him pinned with his bulk, he glared down at him and exclaimed. “Damn it! Don’t ever creep up on me that way again! Are you trying to get yourself killed?” He tossed the knife aside, relieving the pressure on his neck slightly.   
“N-no, I only meant to wake you.” He squawked, quivers tripping along his backbone.  
“A kiss would have been more welcome, though it would no doubt have landed you just where you lie now.” His gaze darted to his lips, noting the lower one caught between his teeth to still it’s trembling. “Have you changed your mind and decided to try my bed after all my curious cat? Is that what this visit is all about?”  
“Absolutely not!” Louis declared, ire overcoming his lingering fear. Wriggling one arm free, he pushed him ineffectively . “Get off me and let me up this instant.”  
Harry stared down at him with a mischievous grin and drawled, “I think not, not until you tell me why you are here. And why you felt it necessary to slap me awake, when a word or two would have done the trick.”  
“You were snoring so loudly, you infernal idiot!” he hissed, remembering to keep his voice low. “You woke my brother, and I had to explain all the noise you were making with your loud snorts and groans.”  
“And what did you tell him?”  
Louis glared at him, eye narrowed into turquoise slits. “I have to convince him that it was a loose swine in the yard, when in truth. It was a grunting pig in the house.”  
“Has anyone told you, you have a very sassy, very tempting mouth?” he countered softly.

Louis was calm enough now to become aware of several things he had dismissed in all the excitement. His eyes drifted downward, encountering a mat of dark hair covering his chest. “You . . . you aren’t wearing a nightshirt.” He stammered, flames licking at his cheeks. And he was laying over him, covering him completely, the heat of his body seeping through his nightshirt.  
“Sweetling” he answered with undisguised amusement. “I do not own a nightshirt, Nor do I imagine one would do me much good now, except perhaps to startle your maid if she should chance into my room and see a bundle of cloth moving in the bed of its own.”  
“It’s highly improper,” he declared stiffly. So was reveling in the sight of his magnificent torso, and drinking in the warm earthly scent of him.  
He chuckled. “I suppose wearing nightclothes above your hips is more proper than wearing none at all?” he taunted.  
Not until now did louis realize that, in his tumble, his nightshirt had risen to drastic heights and now rode about his thighs. Even more alarming, he was feeling not only the heat of him, but also the hair on his legs rubbing intimately against his. His eyes widened, her mind spinning with wayward thoughts no virgin should entertain.   
“Oh!” he whispered. His gaze locked with his, and he silently vowed that he would die before allowing his roving eyes to travel further than they already had. He certainly don’t want to see what the lower part of him looked like, truly he didn’t. Despite the errant curiosity that seemed to have sprung out of nowhere.   
To his utter mortification, the heathen seemed to read his mind. “Go ahead love, look at me. Touch me.”  
“Captain Styles!”  
Harry shook his head in mocking reproach, “Ah, Lou, how do you tempt me, spread beneath me, all warm and inviting. Most especially since I’ve not been with someone for some time before my unfortunate disappearance. But I prefer my lover quiver with passion, not quaking with shame and pretending righteous scorn. I will let you go, unscathed for now, for the price of hearing you speak my name. It’s Harry. Say it, Lou. Softly. Let me hear my name tremble from your rose sweet lips.”  
Louis stared at him warily, not at all sure he could trust him to keep his word. Screaming would only awaken his brother, who could not come to his aid and would only be frightened than ever. To fight him would only anger him. Besides, there was no way he would win in a battle of strengths.  
“You’ll release me if I say your name?” he asked doubtfully, his eyes searching his.  
“Aye”  
On a quick prayer, he blurted, “Harry.”  
Again he shook his head. “Nay, Lou. I said softly. Sweetly.”  
A trembling sigh escaped his lips, and with it his name, like the gentlest sea breeze. “Harry”

Unable to help himself, Harry lowered his lips towards his, their mouths hovering a whisper apart. “Louis” he breathed. Then, ever so tenderly, not wanting to frighten him or ruin the moment, he kissed him. Just touching of the lips. A light brush of flesh against flesh.   
So surprisingly tender. Never would have Louis expected such gentleness from this man. This pirate. For a few precious seconds, he forgot to be afraid and let himself revel in the giddy joy spiraling through him with this. his very first romantic kiss.  
It was over all too soon. Reality came crashing down upon him the minute his mouth left his. Bright flags of color stained his cheeks as he gazed down at him. Before Louis had time to react, to question whether to push him away or to pull him back for more. Harry levered himself from him, whisking the sheet over his lower body as he stood up. “Go Lou, escape while you may. Before my desires overcome my sense and I break my pledge.”  
Stumbling from the bed, still half dazed, Louis croaked out. “You already have, Captain Styles. You vowed to let me go upon saying your name, yet you demanded a kiss as well.”  
As he turned on his heel, harry caught hold of his wrist, halting his flight. “Nay, my saucy kitten. The kiss was a reward for uttering my name in such dulcet tones. It was anything but a demand, and not taken by force. If you are at all honest with yourself, you will know I’m right.”  
When he moved to free his wrist, Harry held him more firmly. “Once it’s given, I stand by my word Louis. I’ll tell you that this kiss was just a hint of what is to follow between us.”  
Not daring to turn around and face him. “Is that a threat, Captain Styles?”  
“Nay, It is a promise my love. A fair warning, if you will.”  
“And what if I decide otherwise? What If I do not want what you offer? Will you then revert to force, and take what you desire, regardless of my wishes?”  
Harry laughed, low and huskily. “I do not foresee that necessity. Though I have little practice in the art of wooing inexperienced lads, I’m willing to wager I can win you over without undue force.”  
He faced him and gasped. Insulted and outraged, “Do I appear so pathetic that you believe a few kisses will have me panting after you, weak to your will? Think again pirate. Hell will be knee-deep in snow before I yield to you.”  
“Such will happen sooner than you think, made all the quicker every time you address me as other than Harry. Unless, of course, you want a more honeyed term for me, such as ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling’. That I would not object to at all. But for every time you call me Captain Styles, there will be a penalty.” He released his wrist.  
He fled to the door the moment his wrist was free. “You conceited beast!” he hissed back at him defiantly.  
“Your barbs will have to be sharper than that to wound my thick hide. At least you remembered not to call me Captain Styles.” His soft chuckle chased after him.

 

To say Louis was reluctant to face Harry the next morning was an understatement. Not that Louis feared him all that much. He’d said he would not harm him, and for some reason he believed him. He was more mortified by his tumble on his bed last night than the pirate himself. He was still berating himself for his lack of self-control as he entered the kitchen. Dora stood at the stove, turning a steaming batch of hash in a skillet. And at her elbow stood Harry Styles, blithely leaning against the sideboard and pilfering bits of potato from the frying pan.  
“What do you think you’re doing?” Louis exclaimed aloud, forgetting himself in his amazement at his recklessly bold behavior.   
Dora spun around, almost upending the skillet in her haste. She gasped, clutching her chest. “Louis, you scared the living daylights out of me.”  
While Dora’s back was turned, Harry stole another tidbit, grinned at Louis, and popped the morsel into his mouth.   
“I . . . I’m sorry Dora, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Louis stammered, still staring at his smug house guest.  
“Well you almost caused my old heart to stop.” Dora had long since ceased to be timid in his household, considering herself more a friend of the family than a housemaid. With a huff, she turned back to her work, shaking her head, she muttered to herself. “There must be something in the air. I can’t find the left over potatoes from last night’s dinner, and I know good and well I placed them in the pantry last night”  
Harry swaggered over and gave Louis a swift peck on the cheek. “Tell her to pile your plate high this morning love. We’ll be sharing a trencher, and I wouldn’t want you to starve.” he whispered, his green eyes gleaming with mischief.  
“What was that Louis?” Dora questioned, not bothering to turn around.  
“Oh, uh, I just asked if you could give me an extra helping,” Louis fumbled, glaring at Harry and swatting at the big hand that came up to play at his nape. “I’m feeling more hungry than usual.”

After Breakfast, Louis ushered Harry out the door and railed at him all the way to the stables. “Because of you, I’ve told more lies in one day than I’ve uttered in my whole lifetime.”  
“As devastating as that sound love, I bet last night certainly caught your interest.”  
Louis stopped short, his eyes raking over him angrily. “Captain Styles! You are loud, brash, ill-bred, and totally irritating. There is not a compelling thing about you,” he fibbed. Except your fine body, and your sea green eyes, and a wealth of chest hair my fingers still itch to touch, he added silently, despising his own weakness towards him.   
One brow cocked upward in amusement. “Is there not? Then why is your face as red as a setting sun? You’re a poor liar love”  
Quickly before Louis could discern his intent, he pulled him into his arms and kissed him soundly, his mouth commanding his to respond. His tongue swept over his lips, painting them with moist heat. His strong white teeth nipped gently at the lush curves, until his gasp gained him entry.  
Shock held Louis still, his breath stolen making his head spin alarmingly, making his stomach tighten and his limbs quake. When Harry released him, he stumbled against the buggy. Stunned and shaken.   
Noting with satisfaction the glaze of desire lingering in his eyes, Harry muttered “That, my love, is the penalty I spoke of last night. The cost of calling me Captain Styles. Now should you wish for me to kiss you again, continue addressing me as such. It will be my pleasure to administer the punishment.” 

They were some distance from the house when Louis reminded him, “You swore not to hurt me.”  
“I’m certain that a kiss can’t hurt you that much love”  
“A matter of opinion, Cap – Harry” he stated stubbornly.  
“Ah, Louis you are priceless! A feisty one, all teeth and claws when your back is up. Certainly not a dainty, simpering lad to take cover at any given circumstance. You make me wonder why I came to your aid so swiftly, when Grimshaw wouldn’t have lasted a month against your sassy wit. You’d have driven him mad in no time.”  
“I would have tried” he answered simply, a smile playing at his lips.

Louis wasn’t entirely sure if he would take it as a compliment or not, the way Harry had phrased some of his comments. But his tone had indicated admiration, his turquoise eyes aglow with renewed pride in his own worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, i just got a new job. but i promise i'm still continuing this story. also good news is i just finished the draft and plot lines for each chapter. :) all i have to do is to write it. also any mistakes is completely mine. Till next Saturday loves


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